Fall
by C.M. Oliver is eastwoodgirl
Summary: Heaven has fallen by the hands of the Dark Seraphim and former Archangel Kurt and his band of renegade angels. While the Trinity abandons their stronghold in favor of another dimension, Paradise meets its last unconquered defender in the person of Angel Blaine, Kurt's former protégé. Which of the two shall emerge victorious, and which will eventually fall? Angel! Klaine. AU.


**FALL (M /NC-17 /R-18; Supernatural/Romance; KH/BA; GLEE)**

**Summary:**_ Heaven has fallen by the hands of the Dark Seraphim and former Archangel Kurt and his band of renegade angels. While the Trinity abandons their stronghold in favor of another dimension, Paradise meets its last unconquered defender in the person of Angel Blaine, Kurt's former protégé. Which of the two shall emerge victorious, and which will eventually fall? Angel! Klaine. AU._

**Warning: Language. Religious overtures, exo-canonical depiction of Heaven, Angels and God in general –purely for creative purposes only, but it this irks or offends you in anyway, please hit the back button now. I will not tolerate rude comments about me burning in Hell or any of the like. Non-graphic violence. Romantic relations between supernatural beings that defy gravity and logic may be encountered. You have been thoroughly warned.**

**Disclaimer: **_Glee, its characters and all related registered trademarks are property of Ryan Murphy and Fox. Any recognizable elements belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

**A/N: **I get inspired by the weirdest things. This one is courtesy of my 5 year-old's homework the other night. I know. What do kindergarteners know about Klaine? Anyway, enjoy. I'm still posting in FFNet even though I hate the… thing. I'm bound to get out of here soon though. Enjoy while it lasts and don't forget to review.

**P.S.** : I have this weird thing regarding smut. For some reason, I just can't get right to it without a whole lot of back story. Please bear with me.

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

**FALL**

**By: C.M. Oliver**

**© 2013**

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

_For Marian, thank you for introducing me to the wonderful world of angels when we were 11._

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

Carnage.

As the final pillars upholding the Great Hall of Light finally fell down, a satisfied smile found its way to Kurt's lips. With a flourish, he lowered his gleaming sword, his grip loosening considerably. From his spot in front of Heaven's last frontier, he surveyed all that his brilliant blue eyes could see. The plains of Paradise were littered with figures –fallen figures on the ground –allies and enemies alike. Although, there was truly no way to determine which was which, for each and every one of those bodies sprouted a pair of silvery white (and in some cases, golden) wings on their backs –some folded in eternal repose, others bent and broken beyond logic. If Kurt had any of the Light that he was created with left in him, he would have retched at that sickening sight, but he didn't. His own black-tinged wings seemed to agree with that thought as it wrapped itself around the Dark Seraph's battle-worn body, calming him.

Yes, he had lost the Light long before, but that did not mean he was without Soul.

A gentle breeze blew across the tall blades of grass as Kurt continued his inspection. It seemed as he had anticipated; the Trinity had abandoned Paradise in favor of another realm, one that did not contain rebel angels such as him, and destruction that was by his hand. If Kurt still had that Light that he was created with in him, he would feel forsaken, abandoned, lost… but he didn't.

Yes, he had lost the Light long before, but that did not mean he was without Soul.

The gold of Kurt's sword glinted in the perpetual glow of Heaven, as did his immaculately porcelain skin. He may have been labeled 'Dark' but in no way did that describe his features; he looked every bit of the former Head Archangel that he once was, from his pristine white clothing to his unblemished body. The only change that was noticeable on the outside where the wings, now black as soot…

Kurt had been one of the consecrated ones, souls who were created specifically to be the Defenders of Paradise, Knights of Light, the Soldiers of Heaven… they were called Seraphim. They appeared to be young men of varying types, bequeathed with the noble purpose of guarding the balance of Good and Evil. They were granted wings of pure gold and powers almost equaling that of the Trinity. They were deputies in every sense of the word and handled the ultimate rule of the Kingdom. They were perfect in every way possible, knowledgeable and compassionate. They had, unlike the other types of denizens of Paradise, free will –much like humans.

It was this free will that changed Kurt from the brightest light of Heaven to the darkest black hole in existence.

Kurt's boot-clad feet took him further than he had anticipated, inspecting the bodies littering his once home, but for some reason, he could not stop. It was as if he were on auto-pilot. Further into the fallen pillars, he found himself, his charcoal wings never unfurling, almost as if protecting him for what he may find. His azure eyes, the color of the skies of Paradise were quietly searching –for something, anything –exactly what, he didn't know. If Kurt still had the Light from which he was conceived in him, he might have described his current emotion as dread, trepidation, apprehension… but he didn't.

Yes, he had lost the Light long before, but that did not mean he was without Soul.

So he made do with blaming his current predicament to exhaustion –in the realms of paradise, angels felt like humans did: fatigue, elation, pain… they can hurt, they can cry, they can die… In reality, Heaven was just a glorified earth in that sense. Bliss is as relative as it is on the human plane.

It was that bliss, or the yearning for it, that changed Kurt from the brightest star of Heaven to the deepest void in existence.

Kurt's feet automatically stopped just beyond a still-upright awning. For its surroundings, it looked certainly out-of –place, like a sore thumb sticking out of a sea of destruction and chaos. It was however not without faults. There were cracks on the white marble vaults holding up the canopy and one of its four pillars had been obliterated. It looked much a like a three-legged dog, bravely trying to hold itself up, trying to stand…

It annoyed Kurt to no end. The battle was over, it was time to stop trying to fight. He pulled his golden sword out of its sheath once more. With both hands making up for the soreness he was feeling in his shoulders, he raised the sharp metal implement above his head and aimed to strike at one of the three remaining pillars…

"Stop." A voice to his right said. The effect on the Dark Seraph was instantaneous. He dropped the sword with a dull 'thunk' as it hit the grass. If Kurt still had the Light that was once his core, he might've acknowledged the fact that his non-existent heart skipped a beat upon hearing that familiar voice, but he didn't.

He still had his soul though, no matter how blackened it was. And his soul recognized the voice for him –and with it, the feelings it stirred within his being. Kurt flexed his wings as he turned around to face the voice –one that probably belonged to the last Defender of the Light in this realm. And he was not far from the truth. Kurt's eyes immediately locked onto the fiery amber ones (really, they could have been a Seraphim's,* that smoldering gaze,) in front of him, then onto the wild curls of dark hair, down to the olive-toned complexion he had so admired, the pristine white clothing marred by burns and holes, the glinting golden sword on one hand –and finally, finally, the gleaming silvery wings spread wide open behind. Kurt had forgotten the last time he had actually smiled, but it felt like a lifetime. His jaws hurt from thinking of it alone. He settled for a smirk as he addressed the newcomer.

"Hello, Blaine."

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

Heaven was paradise, most people saw it that way. It was a place where everything was good and light and happy. It was a place where everything was free…

Oh how misguided they were…

There were rules in Heaven –silly, sometimes unnecessary rules that its citizens lived by. There was a hierarchy, established to maintain a semblance of order in their realm. The Trinity –the Boss, the Savior and the Spirit – was above all beings, living or dead, existing or not. They oversaw not only the realm of Paradise, but those that had existed before and those that have yet to exist. They are the ones that conceive Time and Space. They use Fate and Destiny as a rewards-and-punishment system for everyone under their rule. They can travel from one Universe to another and can choose when and where they can build and destroy their Kingdom. Their current location was Heaven.

Directly below the Trinity were the Seven Circles of Heaven. From the lowest form to the highest Archangel, each of Heaven's citizens were included.

The lowest in rank were the First and the Second Circles –they were also closest to the mortal realm. The First Circle –the Circle of Inclusion – included good souls, souls who have earned the right to eternal glory in the Kingdom. These were beings that died the way they should after living a life the way they should. They were the commoners of Heaven, so to speak, and currently numbered the most.

The Second Circle –the Circle of Immersion – included guardians and spirit guides –deputized souls who serve as mediators between the affairs of Heaven and Earth. They were collectively and more popularly called Guardian Angels, although not all of them are. Most of the beings in this level are angels-in-training, doing one good deed after another in hopes to earn the coveted pair of plain white wings.

The Third Circle –the Circle of Test – is the lowest rank in which its members can actually be legitimately called angels. Once a Second Circle member passes the test, they are inducted to the Third Circle and finally given wings. If said member was once human, he or she still retains that identity until he or she has proven him/herself worthy of the higher levels.

The Fourth Circle is called the Circle of Cleansing. It is where one deputized soul fully becomes inducted to the mysteries of Heaven. Membership from the First to the Third Circles is open to all, but the Fourth Circle is purely by invitation. You can liken it to being enlisted in the army as a reservist.

The Fifth Circle is called the Circle of Faith. It is the highest attainable level for a lowly soul. Most human saints and canonized souls enter the realm of heaven at this point. They remain there however, until they were asked specifically to go elsewhere. Defenders of the Faith, Soldiers of the Right and Fighters for the Gospel make up this level. Cherubims –unconsecrated yet innocent souls of unborn children were also automatically admitted to this group.

The Sixth Circle, dubbed as the Circle of the Fold is in all senses, an invitational group. Every member in this rank is hand-picked by the Trinity to belong in this intimate gathering. Anyone from the First to the Fifth Circle was eligible –they belonged to the cream of the crop, so to speak, if they were asked to move up to this group. Being a chosen Sixth Circle member had its perks –bragging rights, of course, but a mean set of silver wings could not hurt either.

The Seventh Circle on the other hand, is the VIP lounge. It was exclusive for predestined angels of the highest degree –souls who were created with the sole purpose of being angels alone. No human was, is and ever shall be a member of the Circle of High Seraphim with their purely golden wings. And Kurt was one of them. Or rather, he wasn't just one of them. Kurt was the Grand Commander of the Seraphim, General of the Soldiers of Light. He was the highest-ranking citizen of Heaven apart from the Trinity themselves. He was higher even than Michael, Champion and Conqueror of Lucifer (who in actuality, held Kurt's position before his banishment and eventual demise) and Gabriel, Messenger of the Gods, Bringer of the Gospel. The Archangels functioned like Knights and held powers befitting the title. They oversaw the day to day running and maintenance of Heaven, their only known home. For many millennia, not that any of them would actually keep count, the on goings in this realms continued in that boring humdrum manner. The rules that existed were kept in place, never questioned, never broken…

Until came Blaine.

Blaine was a human soul. He was a human soul who physically looked no more than sixteen, although Uriel, who held all the records of all mankind, would swear under oath that the guy was just a week shy of his 21st birthday when he had met his demise due to an accident. And it wasn't just any accident. The young man died while rescuing a little boy who fell into a raging river during a typhoon. The seven year old boy lived. Blaine on the other hand was caught by the rapid current and pulled under. He was a strong swimmer, they said, but apparently not strong enough.

When Blaine first arrived, he looked very much like he did the day he died –most of them do: his dark curls were a mess; his honey-golden irises were glossed over; the thin white shirt he was wearing clung to him like any wet t-shirt would; his drawstring khaki pants looked soaked (even if they really weren't, at least not in that realm) and he was barefoot. Normally, dying a heroic death automatically granted admission to the Third Circle, but apparently this Blaine fellow was even more special than his plain-view records had shown.

He was a consecrated human.

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt's voice rang like glass wind chimes against Blaine's ear. It had to be both the most beautiful and frightening sound he had ever heard in his entire existence. Kurt had always been an enigma to him –he was Fire and Ice, Light and Dark, Yin and Yang… and to Blaine he was just like a puzzle he just could not complete in his head no matter how he tried. His contrasting reactions to Kurt's salutations proved just that: Blaine took a step towards the Dark Seraph –and tightened the grip on his sword at the same time. A small smirk was painted on Kurt's face as Blaine controlled the frown that was threatening to come up on his. Dark Seraphim or not, Shadow Archangel or not, he was still facing his former mentor. Kurt must've sensed the internal struggle plaguing Blaine and scoffed.

"Still having problems with your allegiance, my protégé?"

A mentor-protégé bond among angels is of the utmost exclusivity. It is not to be taken lightly. Once an Archangel agreed to mentor a fledgling –an angel in training –he becomes exclusively responsible for the moral, ethical and spiritual training of the protégé aside from honing him in all necessary skills and talents required of a Soldier of Light. In all essences, the mentor and protégé angel become a single unit, only to be broken once the protégé takes another of his own to train. Not even a difference in opinion –or a defection from all that is Good and Right in its extremity –can break the bond.

And that is the cause of Blaine's current dilemma. He ignored his former mentor's taunting query and instead launched one of his own. "Are you here to finish everything?" A dark chuckle from the Dark Seraph welcomed that naiveté.

"It depends on how you define 'finished' Blaine," said Kurt in that flat tone of his, that Blaine had learned to adapt to. The Dark Seraph looked like fire and spoke like ice –there was no more a fitting description to the workings of Archangel Kurt. He sheathed his sword once more and Blaine relaxed considerably. But once Kurt's eyes met his again, he did not know if that was a good idea. The fire that was once burning in those clear blue eyes have been replaced by emptiness. Blaine was torn between feeling sorry for his mentor –friend, he'd like to think they were friends after all this time –and fearing him. Kurt closed the gap between them until they were only about a foot away from each other. Blaine stood his ground –if it was a show of defiance or pride or he just couldn't move because of plain fear, he wasn't sure himself, but stood his ground he did. Kurt began to circle him like a hawk.

"What is the First Creed that all Angels must observe?"

The question was asked without fanfare. And Blaine thought that they could have been in just another training session and not surrounded by the spoils of the Armageddon of Heaven. The Light Angel cleared his throat.

"The Light above All. All above the Light."

Kurt stopped in his tracks, but said nothing. He stood to Blaine's left and eyed the angel curiously. After a few minutes, he resumed his pacing around a stoic-faced, still Blaine. "And you still believe that?"

Again, Blaine refused to answer the direct question. He kept his gaze ahead, focusing on somewhere that did not exist in that realm.

"The Light above All. All above the Light."

A surprising giggle was heard and Blaine was forced to look at Kurt, who was clutching his stomach in utter amusement –he could just not believe his eyes. Not once in the long time he had known and trained under Kurt had he seen the Seraph act silly like this. He was almost tempted to reach out and touch his former mentor, just to see it this was real. As soon as Kurt recovered himself however, that familiar coldness seeped right back into his glasz eyes. Blaine recoiled and took a step back –a move that did not go amiss to Kurt.

"Pardon my moment of insanity," the Dark Seraph told him, his voice back in that lackluster tone. "I did not expect that."

"What exactly?" Blaine could not help but qualify. "My answer?"

"No. I expected that," said Kurt. "What I did not foresee is us having this conversation –as if it were merely about the weather and nothing more." He stared Blaine in the eye. "How long has it been again? Seven? Eight Human Years?"

"Ten," Blaine replied quietly, immediately picking up on the context of Kurt's question. "Ten years since you've betrayed us –"

"Betrayed?" A frown crossed the Dark Seraph's immaculate face. "You must have mistaken my motives, Blaine –"

"You deceived us." Blaine gripped the sword even tighter in his hand, as if drawing strength from it. His voice remained steady, but the emotions in his eyes were very clear: hurt, anger, betrayal. Kurt noticed this and raised an eyebrow.

"You need to re-qualify that statement, Anderson," he said curtly. "There is no –'us' –"

"YOU BETRAYED ME!" The spat came out of nowhere. "You betrayed me, Kurt! You left me – you left me to fend for myself!" The sword fell from his hand as he took a step closer towards his former mentor until their faces were leveled. They were now only separated by an inch of air. Fiery ambers met icy blues in a dance that could have shaken the entire realm of Paradise. "You –betrayed –me! I trusted you –and you left me!" The force in the angel's voice could have knocked out a marble pillar on its own, but not Kurt. The Dark Seraph held his ground and did not move an inch, and if he did, it was closer rather than farther from his protégé. Their gazes never wavered. Their lips were almost touching now, and Blaine could swear that he could hear the beating of Kurt's heart, had there been one inside of him. How long has it been since he was this close to the Seraph? He did not know. All he knew was that it had been far too long.

As if sensing the turmoil in the Light Angel, Kurt sighed. "So are you going to kiss me or not?"

It was all that Blaine needed to hear. Completely dropping all pretenses, he used both of his hands to pull Kurt closer and violently crush their lips together.

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

Consecrated Humans were rare –they said that the Christ was supposedly regarded as one before he proved that he was the Savior, and a part of the Trinity. Unlike predestined angels, Consecrated Humans were born into the mortal world, not Heaven, with an important mission. Strictly speaking, they are actually the only ones who had Predestiny. They served as some sort of fail-safe mechanism should humanity lose its way and begin to destroy itself. They were the last chance, the final choice, the desperate move to correct the Path when it was strayed upon.

The identities of these humans were a closely-guarded secret that none but the Trinity themselves knew about. Who and where and why they were, were not revealed until said human was poised to return to Heaven once more. But this was a rare thing to happen. It was an open secret that most Consecrated Humans did more harm than good to society. If it was the absence of a pure soul, or the presence of a contaminated mortal body, it was unclear on why they tend to fall into the dark rather than complete their purpose on earth… maybe it was the subconscious knowledge of what immense power and responsibility they held? For this reason, over the time, it had become rarer and rarer that the Trinity would send forth a Consecrated Human. The last one they sent out turned dictator and killed thousands of innocent lives. So to actually meet a Consecrated Human nowadays was –there was no other term for it – a miracle. And to meet said human in the realm of Paradise –it just did not happen. Kurt remembered when Michael spoke to him about the newcomer…

"_**Kurt, I need a moment of your time," Michael halted him in his steps. The other Archangel's evergreen eyes had an inexplicable look of concern in them. Kurt met his contemporary's gaze. Michael was about half a rule taller than him, but his azure orbs had no problem matching that of the blonde angel's.**_

"_**Is there anything I can do for you, Michael?"**_

_**The blonde Archangel sighed before producing a rolled up scroll from behind his back and thrusting it towards Kurt. "I was informed that the consecrated human is to be your protégé."**_

_**Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that I had requested for one. Who told you?"**_

_**Michael shifted in his spot uncomfortably, hearing Kurt's snippy tone. He would like to say that he was one of the few Kurt considered as a friend, but he knew of the Head Archangel's infamous temper: Uriel called it 'smoldering ice' –too cold and yet burns you slowly from the inside out. Many feared and admired Kurt for this –Michael was just worried for his friend. Kurt tended to isolate himself and his attitude did not help one bit. Not too long ago, another angel just like Kurt succumbed to the pull of the Dark –powerful, alone and distant –Lucifer, Kurt's predecessor as General of the Knights of the Light, and now Herald of Hell. "Simon Peter. The Boss apparently wanted this kid trained by the best. I knew you would be too busy for him so I offered to take him instead but –" He shook his head. "They are adamant. I think they have plans for this Blaine guy. You know, come to think of it, he may not be Seraphim like us, but he's a rarity. So I can imagine why they would want you to take him as an apprentice _"**_

"_**You mean a shadow." Kurt interrupted him, blue eyes quickly darkening into steel grays. "As if I am not aware of the fact the Boss no longer holds me in high esteem. They doubt me and my ability to continue my responsibilities without succumbing to the lure of the Dark –" Kurt scoffed. "I may be made of the same stock as Lucy, but I have one thing he doesn't."**_

"_**What's that?" Michael asked, unable to restrain himself. Kurt smirked at him before turning to leave.**_

"_**Balls. Send the kid to me and I will make him the best soldier Heaven has ever seen."**_

The following morning, Blaine arrived at Kurt's office –really it was just a large, spacious room made out of stained glass walls that stretched from the ground up. In the middle was a sturdy-looking marble desk –more like a conference table – and a couple of padded Victorian-inspired armchairs for seating. The Head Seraph was currently seated in one of them, perusing a thick manila folder. Blaine fidgeted with the hem of his new outfit –a stark white three-piece suit with a silver bowtie for accent. The Archangel Camael had even helped him gel his hair back, the style he normally wore on earth. Upon reaching the threshold, the newcomer cleared his throat, hoping to catch the attention of his soon-to-be new mentor. But it was to no avail. Kurt remained busy with the file in his hands. Blaine looked for somewhere to knock on instead, but seeing as everything was made out of glass, he quickly decided against it. He tried another approach.

"_**Um, Good Morning, Sir? I –I'm Blaine Anderson. I –I was told to come and –" The rest of his words, however were stolen from his lips, the moment the Archangel looked up from the papers he was inspecting. And to say that he was blown away by what he saw would be the understatement of the century.**_

_**Archangel Kurt's eyes were a plethora of ever-changing colors; blue, green, grey and sometimes even gold. They exuded emotions that encompass a myriad of sentiments. Blaine had seen other angels in his brief stay, but none of them had eyes as expressive… as arresting… as alive as this. Quickly, he took in the rest of the scenery.**_

_**Blaine Anderson had always believed in things like magic and dreams and angels. His mother had taught him about wings and halos and soft voices and nice smiles. With his mother's own angelic voice, he was taught long before how good boys like him would always get watched over by an angel and kept from harm. And when good people die, they would become angels too. So coming to Heaven was a bit of a partial culture-shock so to speak. Yes, the wings were there, no halos though. And not everyone spoke like his mom. And not everyone smiled.**_

_**Case in point was his new mentor.**_

"_**There is no such thing as Night or Day in this realm. But time exists. And you are late."**_

_**Archangel Kurt's wings were hidden away that moment, and no halos for him too. He spoke somberly, but not gently and there was naught a trace of smile on his soft-looking lips. But Blaine was sure that if God had made a prototype of the Perfect Angel, it would look exactly like Kurt. A flush took over Blaine's olive-toned complexion.**_

"_**For –forgive me, sir. I was detained."**_

"_**Is that so?" Kurt raised an eyebrow as he pushed against his desk and stood up from his seat. He surveyed his new protégé with a critical eye. The kid cleaned up well. From the time he first arrived until now, it seemed like Blaine Anderson was a different man. He looked like a drowned dog before. Now he just screamed dapper debonair. Not that any of it mattered to Kurt of course. The Head Archangel gestured for the young man to take the only other available seat. "The first thing you must know is that I hate protégés." Kurt told him with nary a pause. He sensed the unease in Blaine to have doubled. "But I will make an exception of you."**_

_**Blaine's breathing eased up a bit after that. He stole a glance at his mentor and found himself meeting a cold icy glare. It was quite a wonder how Kurt's voice managed to retain its soft quality when his facial expression was as hard as a rock. He looked away and turned even redder.**_

_**Kurt continued his quiet examination of his new apprentice. There was a healthy dose of flush coloring his cheeks, and upon being caught staring, his honey eyes were now looking anywhere but Kurt's. For some reason that look of intimate bashfulness appealed to the Head Seraph. Kurt crossed his arms across his chest and continued. "I am certain that Michael had briefed you of what to expect. But I would like to be informed of your circumstances myself before we begin. Those –" he gestured towards the file that he was just perusing a while ago. " –Are written in Uriel's atrocious handwriting and cannot be deemed for ocular consumption, supernatural being or not. You will tell me your story, I will ask questions, and then you can ask your own. Then we start whipping you up into shape. Are we clear?" That tone beckoned a response, but that Blaine could do was look back at the specter in front of him once more –as if he was driven by an unseen force to do so. Blaine tried hard not to stare –he tried hard not to listen to that nagging voice inside his head –incredibly breath-taking or not, it was very impolite to stare. Much more so if said object of staring is a supernatural being about to officially become one's mentor. But Blaine was lost, long lost in marveling at how the perpetual golden lights of Heaven seem to pale in comparison to Kurt's own glow. A throat clearing caught him unawares, however.**_

"_**Are you done?" There was impatience at Kurt's manner, but it was more of an amused tone than an irritated one. "It's quite impolite to stare."**_

"_**I'm sorry. It's just that –I –"**_

"_**If you say 'never seen an angel before' I myself will put you to the express train to the deepest bowels of Hell." Kurt told him plainly. Blaine paled.**_

"_**No –no, of course not. I've –" The man sighed meaningfully. "I –I was about to say 'beautiful'. I've never seen someone so beautiful in any realm I've been to." An embarrassed grin made its way to Blaine's oft-bitten lips that were the perfect shade of cotton candy. "I'm sorry, sir. I know it's a bit insolent of me, but it's just that I had this picture in my head of what an angel would look like and it never matched anyone I've seen here until I saw you."**_

_**In all his existence, that one tiny declaration was able to render Kurt something he had never been before.**_

_**Speechless.**_

_**But he wasn't Head Archangel for nothing.**_

_**Kurt recovered himself fairly quickly and approached his protégé who, by that time was gripping the armrests of his seat like his life depended on it. The Seraph leaned forward until their faces were almost leveled. Kurt gently cupped Blaine's chin and fixed him a steady gaze. For a moment, Blaine forgot how to breath –and forgotten further that he wasn't exactly breathing anymore anyway. The proximity of Kurt and now, the Archangel's face did not unsettle him right then as much as he thought it would before –it was more of a feeling of… anticipation. Inches away, Blaine could clearly see now the perfect hodge-podge of shades coloring Kurt's eye. If he were to sum it up in a word, he would call it glasz –the color of the ocean, the color of the very sky dome of Heaven now above them.**_

"_**Second thing you must know," Kurt was barely speaking, almost whispering to him like a lover would in the middle of the dark. Blaine felt his heart stop beating completely –not that it was beating anyway in the first place. He swallowed.**_

"_**Y –yes, sir?"**_

_**A mischievous grin graced Kurt's face.**_

"_**The next time you call me 'Sir' I will make you suffer." He then pulled back. When Blaine finally recovered, he shakily asked. "What –what shall I call you then?" The Archangel turned from him and reclaimed his seat. His face was back in its mask of disinterest.**_

"_**Kurt. Kurt would do."**_

After that awkward first encounter the dynamics between the mentor and protégé quickly lightened up. After Blaine had divulged the story of his life to his mentor (gay, bullied, musician, loves dogs) the wall of ice between them seemed to have broken down completely. The denizens of Heaven were all too quick to notice that their once aloof and stringent Head Seraph was finally actually interacting with someone who isn't the Trinity or his fellow Archangels –and the conduct by which he did it was far from the cold, heartless, manner that he had been long known for. Yes, Kurt was still cold and bitter when dealing with the others, but the way he spoke and interacted with his protégé was a very big contrast. He still spoke stiffly and answered curtly, but the way his eyes shone whenever he was tutoring Blaine or merely just conversing about nothing important in particular with him was a very noticeable sign. Kurt never willingly touched anyone ever before and yet he was readily guiding Blaine's hand and arms into the several battle stances he was to learn.

The consecrated human had managed to thaw the icy Archangel. A secret exchange of thoughts among those in the know surmised that Blaine had finally achieved his predestined purpose –not on Earth though, but in Heaven.

Kurt had began his appointed task of molding Blaine into the ideal warrior with a lecture.

"_**While it is true that angels are more known for their work during peacetime, they are so much more needed when the world underwent Armageddon in the numerous times in the past, present and the future. Each and every Seraph is a battle-ready dynamo." He nodded at Blaine. "And although you aren't technically one of us, your special circumstance as a consecrated human affords you inclusion in the elite Knighthood of the Light. In all essences you are one of us –except for the golden wings. But to be honest, I don't think it suits your color anyway."**_

At first, Blaine was surprised to know that his seemingly put-together and quiet mentor was the general of all the warrior angels. But any doubt on his mentor's ability quickly shattered…

_**If he could actually sweat, Blaine was sure that he'd be drenched. He was currently down on the soft, grass-covered ground of the Seventh Circle's training room (field). He had just survived –barely –sparring with Kurt. The routine had been going on for what was equivalent to three weeks on Earth now, and to be honest, Blaine could not say that he was beginning to get the hang of it. As the days passed by, it just seemed to be getting harder and harder to even just match up with Kurt's skill set and stamina.**_

"_**I am certain that lying on the ground is not part of our regimen. And yet, I find you to be into it almost every spare second you can get your hands into." The Archangel's barb may still sound haughty and condescending to most, but not to Blaine. Over the course of their dealings, he had quickly learned to adapt to and even appreciate his mentor's sarcastic tirades as just that –sarcasm. He met Kurt's gaze from his spot on the grass and grinned.**_

"_**I'm pretty sure Michael mentioned something about**__ 'pretending to be dead'__** when **_**'**_Kurt gets carried away with sparring.'__**" Blaine replied back cheekily, complete with air quotes that he had just barely managed with his sore arms. "This is my admittedly pathetic version of it."**_

_**Kurt scoffed, but not without mirth. "You are such a drama queen. You should stay away from Michael. And you are doing quite well for a non-Seraph. Our training is designed for one, so it is understandable that you will feel inadequate at some points. Now, you can lie down there and pretend all you want while I vanquish you or –"**_

_**Blaine sat up in mock-fright, before scratching his chin and titling his head thoughtfully onto one side. "Was there a compliment buried in there somewhere?"**_

"_**Mongrel!" Kurt swatted Blaine with the blunt end of his sword, which the latter avoided with surprising less effort."You look like a lost puppy when you do that."**_

"_**Do what?" Blaine asked as he deliberately widened his honey-golden peepers and preened from behind his thick eyelashes up at his mentor. Kurt was torn between hitting him again and laughing at his protégé's antics. "Don't get used to it."**_

"_**I won't," said Blaine, still smiling. "I can't get complacent." **_

_**Kurt smirked.**_

"_**Complacency kills." He began to circle his protégé who was still on the ground. "Good to know I have managed to drill something into that thick human skull of yours." Kurt then stopped right in front of Blaine and held out a hand, which the latter looked at funnily for a few seconds. But when the Archangel raised an eyebrow expectantly, realization dawned upon the young man. Blaine took Kurt's proffered hand and pulled himself up with it. As soon as they were both upright, Kurt gave Blaine a calculating stare.**_

"_**For some reason, you always seem confused in my presence."**_

_**A sigh ushered Blaine's reply. "May I tell you something, Kurt? And will you give me your word that you will not have me struck by lightning until at least after I'm done?" His request was met by a frown, but eventually the Head Seraph nodded wordlessly. Blaine took a deep breath.**_

"_**When I first came here, I was lost. I mean, not everyone dies at 30, then suddenly reemerges in Paradise and then gets told that he is a soul with a special mission –that's –that's not how things go, I believe." A small smile crossed Blaine's lips. "But I tried – I tried my hardest to take things in. I remember Uriel hugging me when I broke down as he told me of my circumstances. Then Camael tried to cheer me up by doing my hair and Michael helped me fit in by educating me on the basics of Heaven." A wistful look. "To be honest, I still don't understand how someone like me could be special –"**_

"_**But you are," Kurt interrupted him, to which Blaine chuckled.**_

"_**I'm just little old me. Blaine Devon Anderson: college student, part-time music instructor, resented gay son, brother, friend… I mean, I could be anybody. And yet –" he gestured around him widely. "I'm here. I'm a training Guardian of Light, under a tutelage of the Highest Seraphim. I mean, what ever did I do to deserve this?" He then looked at Kurt in the eye. "What makes my soul special that I should –that I should meet you?"**_

"_**I don't know." For once, Kurt looked as lost as Blaine. "I should tell you that souls like us have predestiny –that the Trinity had hand-picked us from among the throng to bequeath unto us the important task of Stewardship of the Light –" the Seraph sighed. "I'm supposed to convince you that. But to be honest, I don't quite believe it myself. If you look at it closely, they could have chosen the soul next to mine to be your mentor. And I, could have been born female, Asian, blind… I could have been born a llama, a heron, a rosebush or whatever –"**_

"_**A rosebush has a soul?"**_

"_**My point is," said Kurt, ignoring Blaine," is that nothing in existence is certain. Permanency is a relative as good or evil. We are told specific things to make us believe that we matter –to make us thankful for what we are given."**_

"_**Something tells me that you believe otherwise," said the protégé. "And that is what confuses me about you, Kurt. You may as well be the most powerful being in this realm, the most favored, and yet –and yet you seem to hate it." Kurt turned to him sharply.**_

"_**What gives you that idea?"**_

_**For a moment, Blaine looked hesitant to answer his mentor, but eventually, something deep inside him gave way. "You're not happy, I can tell. The others say that you are just too busy to even care –what, with practically running Heaven and all that. But –but I think that's not the reason."**_

"_**Happiness…" Kurt looked painfully amused at his protégé's naïveté. "Tell me, Blaine… what is –happiness –to you?"**_

"_**Love." Blaine answered readily with a wide-toothed grin. "Love makes me happy. Isn't that what makes the world go 'round?" To Blaine's surprise, Kurt let out a dark chuckle.**_

"_**Oh Blaine, how truly… plebian of you."**_

_**Blaine frowned. "What do you mean? Don't angels fall in love?"**_

_**Kurt turned away from him in response and pulled his own sword out of its sheath. The Archangel then began to spar with his own shadow. Blaine looked on in both wonderment and confusion. Times like this was when he most liked watching Kurt –he moved with such grace and agility that he made sword-fighting look almost like dancing. Blaine stood there watching for about a couple of minutes before Kurt noticed him.**_

"_**You won't learn anything by just watching me."**_

"_**I beg to disagree. You are an excellent demonstrator, Kurt." The Archangel rolled his eyes. "Come on up and show me what you've learned then."**_

_**So Blaine grabbed his own sword and joined his mentor. The time it seemed that they were evenly matched. Blaine felt the confidence seeping into him, fuelling his desire to show his mentor what he'd learned. That earnest thirst to prove himself quickly bore fruit, as in but a few minutes, he already had the beautiful Seraph at the end of his sword, disarmed. Blaine looked surprised at himself. Kurt on the other hand looked relatively pleased.**_

"_**Well, I guess you are right."**_

_**The words were simple enough, but Blaine could tell that it carried far more sentiments than just confirming his observation of Kurt's teaching skill. He flushed. "Well –" he then made the mistake of lowering his sword in that moment of unease. Kurt took advantage of it, and in mere seconds, their positions were reversed. The mentor smirked.**_

"_**I thought we were clear with avoiding complacency."**_

"_**I was distracted –"**_

"_**Never. Get. Distracted." Kurt did not release his hold on Blaine as he said this. "Pick up you sword. We're done for today." Only when did Blaine sheath his sword did Kurt relax his stance. A dazed look was upon the protégé's face, but he quickly shook it off.**_

"_**Thanks for today, Kurt." Blaine was about to return to his quarters when he though he heard Kurt say:**_

"_**You make me happy, Blaine. For some inexplicable reason, you do."**_

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

Angels in essence have no need for air, but had there been, it wouldn't be enough to pry Blaine away from claiming Kurt's lips. It was once, only once in the distant past that he had the courage to actually do it. It was right after the Archangel had admitted to him that Blaine made him happy. The Light Angel could not remember what came over him that day, except for the fact that he might have already fallen hard for his then mentor.

Kurt's lips soundlessly slid against his, effortlessly seeking entrance that Blaine readily gave. If predestiny was indeed true, this right here was proof.

He was destined to exist loving Kurt. Kurt who was his mentor, his friend…

His now supposed-to-be sworn enemy.

Blaine pulled away from the kiss.

"I- I can't." He looked away, afraid of the fact that those glasz eyes now onto him would be enough to melt away all of his remaining inhibitions. "I can't –we can't do this."

"Can't or won't?" Kurt maintained his position and crossed his arms. He gave Blaine a cocky grin. "What –am I too Dark now for your tastes, Blainey? Has Michael taught you well in my absence? You know, if you prefer blondes, I –"

"You're a sworn enemy of the Light!" Blaine spat out heatedly, again reaching for his weapon and aiming it directly at Kurt's throat. I am a sworn Defender –or have you forgotten that you yourself had inducted me into the fold?"

Kurt did not say a word. His gaze however, rested on the tip of Blaine's sword. The Light Angel tightened his grip on the golden implement, hoping against hope that his former mentor did not notice his shaking hands. They stayed in that unmoving tableau for what seemed like an eternity, until Kurt broke the monotony. The Dark Seraph took a step towards Blaine, until the pointed tip of the sword was almost piercing his delicate-looking skin.

"I'm impressed," murmured Kurt. "If you had been the Blaine I began teaching 15 human years ago, you would have already dropped that sword and given me the upper hand. Michael had indeed taught you well." He then broke into a bitter smile. "He's turned you around completely."

Blaine held his ground. "I –I never was astray." Kurt scoffed. His hand flew up towards the sharp edge of Blaine's weapon and held it still against his own neck. "Who are you trying to convince, my dear protégé? Certainly not I? Or are you forgetting that I know you best, better than your own self?"

"Your path is destruction." Blaine retorted. "But it hadn't been always like that, Kurt. What changed? You never told me. You left one day without an explanation and you turn up 10 years later wreaking havoc. I thought – "

"What changed? Surely, you jest." Kurt muttered darkly. He then held Blaine's steady gaze. "You happened, Blaine. That's what changed."

"M –me?" Blaine frowned, his hand visibly faltering. "I –why –you're blaming this on me?"

"Remember that day I asked you about happiness?" Kurt asked. "Remember what your answer was?"

"Love. But I don't –"

"Angels cannot fall in love, Blaine." Kurt said, dark circles shadowing his brilliant eyes. He looked every inch drained. "The Cardinal Rule of Heaven states that predestined Angels such as I cannot feel such a human emotion. Especially not for another."

The golden metal in Blaine's hand dropped on the grass-covered ground with a loud 'thunk.' His honey eyes were wide.

"Is that –you left –you never –you didn't tell me –"

"What would I tell you?" Kurt challenged. "That we angels are mere instruments? That our free will is a sham? That we fall lower than the lowliest life form when to comes to being able to express ourselves? What would you have me tell you? That your idea of Heaven is but a romanticized version? And then what, discourage you from pursuing the path to Knighthood?" Kurt drew closer to Blaine. "Do you not understand how special you are, Blaine? You're the only consecrated human to ever withstand the pull of Darkness! And I can't do anything to derail that! As such you're the only Light Angel of your kind –capable of love!"

"Kurt I –"

"And **that** is **not** fair!" Suddenly, Kurt's bright eyes were brimming with crystal tears. "Because I want to be able to love too! Just like Lucifer did! He rebelled because he wanted that freedom, but we were made to believe that he had wanted power –to overthrow the regime –"

"Kurt, I really –"

"Nobody understands." Kurt said heatedly. "I thought that I could have done away with it. For a while, I thought that I could have done away with it. For a while, I thought I could." A shaky laugh ensued. "But then **you** –you had to arrive and mess my head up. I was perfectly content with being alone –that's why I never wanted protégés. I don't want any attachment to anyone because I know that this is exactly what would happen. But no, you just had to come along and I –stupid me –just had to let you in and get too close to me!"

To say that Blaine was speechless after that would have been an understatement.

"Kurt, I –I didn't –"

"I left because of you," said the Dark Seraph in a voice so quiet, no one but the two of them could've heard it. "Michael did not tell you, I believe. Just like he never told me why Lucifer left in the first place –"

"Lucifer left –" Blaine's eyes widened even more. "Kurt –"

"He was my mentor," an eerie silence followed that declaration. "He was banished for the exact same reason I was." He gestured towards his black wings. "Cursed like I was for wanting more than the power we were both given –"

"He –he fell in love with you? He was banished –"

"I resented him for a while," admitted the Archangel. "Even so, I only found out the truth when I was cast upon the fiery lakes of Hell, carrying this burden. But he was too far gone –" he shook his head. "He has turned into a monster by the time I had arrived there. I couldn't –I had meant to save him –" Kurt's voice shook at this point. Blaine was torn between comforting his former mentor and keeping strictly still. He settled for a question.

"You –so you – did you –"

"Killed him?" An ugly smirk painted across Kurt's lips. "What would you have me do? I killed my own mentor before he killed me. It was a necessary loss –"

"I'm sorry, Kurt," said Blaine, not even having to fake the emotion behind it. "You never had to –"

"I know!" Kurt exclaimed all of a sudden, tears finally breaching his lovely cerulean eyes. "I know, Blaine! I never had to –I did not want to –if not for that stupid rule –" he angrily wiped his tears away, the first time Blaine had seen his mentor look ever so defeated and fragile. "I – I may not have cared for him like he did for me, but –"

"The Council," Blaine interrupted him, still unsure of how to deal with the events of the last few minutes. "They told us –me –that you had become like Lucifer –"

"In a way, they are correct," Kurt took a step away from his former protégé, his hands clasped behind his back. "Lucifer had fallen. Although what they had failed to mention is what had exactly caused that downfall. I should know. They gave me that same 'your-mentor-turned-dark' speech."

"But –"

"I guess, if you could equate great power with great love –" Kurt turned to face Blaine once more, his eyes surprisingly void of saline. "Power caused his fall from grace as it did mine." The former head Seraph's face was back to its usual stoicism, but the vulnerability it held behind those gorgeous azure eyes radiated in waves. Blaine felt his heart melt. He moved to close the gap between him and his former mentor. With an unsteady hand, he reached out to touch the soot-black feathers now gracing Kurt's form. When the Dark Seraph did not shy away, Blaine began to caress the shadowy pair of wings ever so gently Kurt closed his eyes. They fluttered briefly against his fingers before going still once more.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I –I had doubted you." A sad smile crept up Kurt's lips as he opened his eyes once more and looked directly into Blaine's.

"It matters not." He gestured around them. "It is finally finished." He stepped away from Blaine. His magnificent black wings unfurled behind him. Blaine looked on in amazement. He'd never seen something look so wonderful and yet so heartbreaking of a scene. Kurt noticed the microcosmic change in his former protégé's countenance.

"I may be once your mentor in this realm, but in eventuality, I am now lower than you. You have power over me –one that I will gladly submit to."

Blaine's gaze followed Kurt's every move. If he was surprised at the fallen Archangel's pronouncement of surrender, he contained it well.

"You –you did all this –just to yield to –to me?" Kurt raised his hands astride.

"I will not become like Lucifer, Blaine. I had made my point. It is fruitless to bask in the glow of victory without anyone to share it with." He glanced around them. "Everyone is gone, fighting, dying for a cause too great. I ha emerged victorious –that is enough for me."

"How –just how could you say that?" Blaine looked at him skeptically. "Do you really want to curse yourself to eternal loneliness?"

"I am a traitor," said Kurt simply. "Even if I escape this realm, I will be branded as such in the others to come. You on the other hand –" He sighed meaningfully. "Just do it, Blaine –"

"Kurt , I –"

"Just do it! Damn you!" Kurt yelled. "Kill me! You have your chance now. The Trinity will reward you greatly –"

"Kurt, no, just –"

"Kill me, please –"

"Stop!" Blaine grabbed a hold of his former mentor's shoulders and shook it hard. "Just stop it!" He fixed Kurt a glare that could've melted steel. "I will not harm you –"

"So what, you'll let me end up like Lucifer?" Kurt could not help but sniff at the mention of his own former mentor. "You'll let me end up like a monster –"

"You won't be a monster, Kurt," Blaine told him plainly. "I won't. You have something that Lucifer did not have." His words were met by a questioning look from the fallen Archangel. Blaine took the liberty to answer the unasked question.

"Me. You have me."

And with renewed fervor, Blaine captured Kurt's lips in an ardent kiss. The Dark Seraph was caught off-guard this time, he was pushed a step back with the eager force of his former protégé.

"Just let me, Kurt, please," came the earnest whisper from Blaine. It geld so many sentiments that washed over any of Kurt's inhibitions and doubts. In that moment right there he decided; it was time to finally let go –and fall.

Blaine dragged the tips of his fingers down the stretch of Kurt's clothed arms and even lower towards the black wings. He met no restraint as the feathers stilled against his touch and folded right out of his path of exploration. He pulled Kurt closer and crushed both their bodies together. Suddenly, it all felt too constricted, too warm.

Buttons began to fly off under the orchestration of nimble fingers. Neither knew what or how exactly they were doing, but each and every move felt natural, felt innate, felt like it was meant to be. When the two were finally surrounded by a puddle of white clothing at their feet, Blaine stood back to admire the wonder that was the Archangel Kurt. Now he was certain, that if there had been a prototype of the perfect angel, it would have been Kurt.

"God, Kurt, you're beautiful,"

A light blush colored Kurt's cheeks. "Please, Blaine, I –" he moved to cover his nakedness with his wings, but Blaine was too fast. He attached himself onto Kurt, preventing him from doing just that.

"No, Kurt. Don't. Don't ever hide yourself." Blaine reclaimed his position of plundering Kurt's lips, his hands wandering, desperately seeking connection with just about any part of the gorgeous being before him now.

Kurt felt overwhelmed with the sensations Blaine was causing him. He had been in existence for quite a long time now, but never had he ever experienced quite anything like this. It felt like fire –liquid fire was dancing along the non-existent veins in his whole body, firing up every nerve ending that had ever been placed in him. The surge was something that he could have never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams –and that was saying something. He was cruising on that comfortable high until he felt Blaine's hands wandering lower. He fidgeted and pulled away.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine looked completely puzzled.

"I –I've never –"

"Oh," an understanding smile crossed the Light Angel's lips. "Just trust me on this, Kurt. Let yourself fall…"

With renewed fervor, Blaine latched onto the side of Kurt's delicate neck, the spot that he had threatened with his own sword not a minute too long ago, and sucked lightly. The sensation it created went directly to Kurt's groin.

"Uhh, Blaine, I –"

"Yes? Tell me, Kurt –"

"Please, more –"

"As you wish –" Blaine let his hands go back to exploring every inch of Kurt that he could –caressing, worshipping all that he can, making the Dark Seraph writhe under his touch. What his fingers held, his lips followed with wild abandon. Blaine kissed and nipped and sucked every inch of that wonderful unblemished skin. When he had ended up teasing the delicate skin of Kurt's inner thigh, he looked up from his spot on the grass and met the glasz eyes.

"Kurt, do you want me to –"

"Hell, no. If you stop I –" Whatever threat that the Dark Seraph had for his former protégé was lost in the guttural cry that escaped his candy pink lips as Blaine's own finally circled that hard erection nestled among dark curls. Blaine rolled his tongue along the impressive length, his lips barely encircling the girth of the pulsating muscle. Each stroke down, he would lick the large vein decorating the underside of Kurt's cock, and he would suck firmly each time he pulled up. For a few passes, he let his hand guide his mouth. After he had felt his jaw relax, he let the large tip of Kurt's cock hit the back of his throat each time he went down.

Kurt thought he would pass out –no, die – he would die from Blaine's talented mouth. God, he'd trade being a powerful supernatural being for being a lowly human if it always felt like this. He had been holding back since Blaine began the exploit of his length, but even powerful supernatural beings like him had their limits. When a particularly enthusiastic hum from Blaine sent tremors directly to his groin, Kurt let himself moan and groan like he never did before.

"B-Blaine…" The sound of which, only seemed to excite the Light Angel further. Blaine increased his pace until Kurt felt feverish.

"Blaine –I –I 'm –"

To say that the explosion was cosmic would have been a very bad understatement. Kurt emptied himself deep into his former protégé's throat as his climax reached an up swell. Blaine let the beautiful Seraph relax in his mouth before pulling out with an obscene 'pop'. He smiled at Kurt serenely.

"I love you, Kurt."

"Wha –what?" Kurt looked positively satiated, albeit confused. When realization finally dawned on him, he stiffened and sat up. "Blaine –oh my –what –I -you –"

"Relax." Blaine chuckled. "You just orgasmed. No harm done." He crawled over Kurt and bestowed a soft kiss on the fallen Archangel's forehead. Then on one cheek. Kurt swatted him away.

"But –you –how –" he gestured at Blaine's own erection –which was now relatively flaccid and covered with milky cum. Blaine laughed embarrassingly.

"It had been a while. I guess I got too excited." He sighed. "You were more than enough for the both of us, Kurt." On shaky legs he stood up and helped Kurt to do the same. Both dressed in relative silence, not once speaking, but throwing each other concerned and calculating glances. Once they were fully dressed, it was Kurt who broke the silence first.

"So what now?" He gestured at the fallen sword by Blaine's feet. "Was that an act of mercy?"

Blaine shook his head, and with vehemence kicked the golden weapon away from him. "Did you not hear a word I said?" Kurt furrowed his brows.

"What –"

"I **said** 'I love you.' Or was that too complex to process for such a powerful being like you?"

Kurt flushed. "I –"

"You don't have to say it back," Blaine offered.

"I love you too, Blaine. I have since that day in training." Kurt admitted. "But this –" he looked around them. "This war, this carnage, this –"

Blaine followed Kurt's gaze. "I am the Last Defender of Light," he announced solemnly. "The Last Knight of Heaven. I now hold the highest power conferred in this realm." He raised his hand overhead. Kurt followed it with his eyes, anticipation mixing with apprehension at not knowing what was going through his former protégé's mind. But he kept still. If ever Blaine decided that he should be banished, he would gladly accept it. Blaine had just professed his feelings for him, but the Knighthood of the Light held power over all. If Kurt would fall, he would fall by Blaine's hand and Blaine's hand alone. He was ready to meet his end if it meant that it was to be by his beloved's sword.

Blaine saw Kurt's resignation to whatever fate he was willing to bestow upon the branded traitor. He took not a second longer.

"By the power I hold in my hands, I declare heaven conquered by the hand of Archangel Kurt… as I am." The Last Light Angel then dropped on his knees in supplication before his former mentor and now lover. Kurt's eyes widened.

"Blaine –"

Blaine grinned. "I surrender to you, Kurt –my power, my position, my life, my heart."

"Blaine –are you out of your mind? You –you could have defeated me and reclaimed Heaven! The Trinity would have reinstated you in my former position!" From his spot on the ground, Blaine reached for both Kurt's hands and pulled it close to his chest.

"I could have. But this battle was lost long before it even began." He kissed the trembling appendages he held. "I now know why I was chosen for this. I was chosen for you… I was destined to fall for –no –" he shook his head of curls slowly. "I was destined to fall with you."

With that, he pulled himself up, and met his lover's lips in a chaste peck. When they pulled away, both honey and glasz had no eyes but for each other. They may be surrounded by death and destruction right then, but none of it mattered to any of them. None at all.

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

*****Seraphim **–**means fiery one

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010**

**A/N: **There, done! Please do not hesitate to let me know how it was. (Who wants a sequel?) _By the way, you can also check me and my stuff out at:_

FACEBOOK: **C.M. Oliver is Eastwoodgirl **(#cmoliverfanfiction)

FFNet: **C.M. Oliver is Eastwoodgirl**

Twitter: **C.M. Oliver** (a.t.)heyitschesca (#cmoliverfanfiction)

Tumblr: **klaineloveandsnarrydreams **(#cmoliverfanfiction)

If you want to follow me, please don't be shy. Warning though: I talk mostly about Klaine and Snarry and Glee and Harry Potter and Music and Movies and Pop Culture and about the general unfairness of life (yeah, a lot of those things).

Anyhow, I'm glad you took time to read this. Again, please don't forget to drop me a review! They fuel my desire to post. And thanks in advance. Love, C.


End file.
